


Until We Feel Alright

by gingerink



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Awkward Romance, Dany and Seb are brothers, Idiots in Love, M/M, Romance, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 15:42:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4925443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingerink/pseuds/gingerink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dany never understood why he has a Spanish curseword on his skin. Then he meets Carlos, but things still aren't clear. (Or the Carlos and Dany soulmark fic nobody asked for.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until We Feel Alright

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if the translations are wrong.  
> Enjoy!

Soulmates are a strange concept to Dany; he’s been surrounded by the concept of soulmates since he was rather young. He remembers tracing the sharp, slanted strokes over his father’s wrist; _stop moaning_ , it says – the handwriting belongs to his Vati; who has _make me_ curling down his arm in small, curling handwriting.  
Dany sometimes let his fingers drift over the soft skin of his father’s arm. His father glances at him.  
  
“What’s wrong, solnyshko?” His father asks, his voice soft. His brown eyes glance at his son.  
  
“What is that, daddy?” Dany asks, trying to rub off the black lines with his fingers.  
  
“It’s my special mark.” His father says, smiling. Dany’s fingers still stroking over the mark.  
  
“When will I get mine?” Dany asks, cocking his head.  
  
“When you’re ready, darling.” His father ruffles his hair.  
  
His older brother Sebastian gets his when he’s sixteen; the words _so you’re that German wonderkid_ scrawls itself up the side of his arm, the letters are overly pronounced. Dany watches Sebastian’s fingers trace over the words, mouthing them. Dany wonders if he’ll ever be in that situation; his fingers tracing over inked words. He feels a curl of jealousy inside his belly.  
  
Sebastian meets Dan a few years later. Dan is all soft edges, curly hair and a wide crooked smile. His soulmark; Sebastian’s words – _and you’re that Australian dickhead who drove me off the track_ curling over his wrist in his brother’s slightly messy handwriting. He hates watching the two of them together; when Sebastian brings Dan home, their fingers curling together, their eyes locked on one another; brown against blue. Dany feels sick, he glances at his unmarked skin and wonders when it will happen to him.  


* * *

  
  
It’s not until he’s accepted into the Red Bull Academy; when he’s seventeen, his father pressing him into his chest, tears falling down his cheeks, muttering about how proud he was, that Dany feels a searing pain in his lower arm. He glances down and sees curling black letters over his wrist.  
  
He looks carefully at it; it’s one word – _coño_.  
  
His father notices the word emblazon itself across Dany’s wrist.  
  
“Oh, Dany, you finally have your mark-“ His father pulls Dany’s arm towards him. His face falls as he reads the word.  
  
“What does it mean, Dad?” Dany asks.  
  
His dad doesn’t say anything. Dany glances down at his mark, feeling tears prick his eyes. Sometimes; marks can be hurtful things – sometimes some soulmates aren’t supposed to be together. Dany wonders if he and his soulmate are supposed to be together. His father doesn’t mention it again, Dany hides it under his sleeve. He doesn’t want to see the words again, the handwriting sweeping over his pale skin. He doesn’t want to think about his soulmate.  
  
However, he doesn’t really have a choice; it’s his first day at the Academy and he’s strapping himself into his kart. He spots a red and yellow helmet – bright amongst the other helmets – he wonders why it interests him so much. He exhales deeply, flipping down his visor and ignoring his father’s watching him in the stands, they both try to look inconspicuous in their hats and sunglasses. Dany clenches his fists, feeling the tough leather of the steering wheel underneath his gloves, he bites his lip, trying to control his beating heart.  
  
However, the calm doesn’t last as the driver with the red and yellow helmet slams him off the track into the first corner. Dany grits his teeth, feeling the curses roll off his tongue as his kart pitches into the gravel. He slams his foot down on the pedals, the wheels turn half-heartedly. Dany feels the tears prick up in his eyes, as he thinks about his dad watching in the stands, of all the people judging his performance. He climbs out of the kart and makes his way back to the pits. He catches sight of the familiar red and yellow helmet speeding around the track as he walks back.  
  
“Мудак” He mutters under his breath as he walks past, so filled with rage, he forgets the word as it falls from his lips.  


* * *

  
  
Red and yellow helmet ends up winning the race. Dany watches from the sidelines as he pulls off his helmet, revealing a tanned face, smooth jawline, deep brown eyes and fluffy jet black hair. Dany feels his mouth go dry as he watches the boy, dressed in the same overalls as him – smile on his face as he shakes the hands of the competitors around him. He pauses at Dany, hesitantly taking his hand, their racing gloves are rough against one another. Brown eyes glance into hazel.  
  
“I’m sorry about the manoeuvre on the first corner-“ The boy begins, biting his lip. His accent is strange – almost, Spanish – the English sounds strange floating on his tongue. “I thought I left enough room-“ Dany’s heart gives a jolt at the Spanish accent, before he realises that the words on his wrist are not, _I’m sorry_.  
  
“Well, you didn’t.” Dany snaps. “So thanks for that.”  
  
The boy’s eyes widen. “I’m sorry.” He rips his hand away – Dany finds himself missing the warmth for a moment as he watches the boy move away, the smile soon reappears on his face as he’s congratulated once more.  Dany watches him go with a heavy heart.  


* * *

  
  
Carlos, it turns out, is the boy’s name. He’s Spanish, his father is some famous driver, he doesn’t like to talk about it. He’s shy and elusive off track, but when his visor comes down, he bullies his way through the pack, not caring who gets in his way. Dany watches him, curled up in one of the garages, his overalls twisted down to his waist, book in his hands – it’s Italian. Dany raises an eyebrow.  
  
“You speak Italian?”  
  
Carlos raises his eyes to meet Dany. They widen, he bites his lip. “Yeah, I speak three languages. I live in Italy with my dad so-“  
  
“I speak four.” Dany says, he can’t stop himself.  
  
“It’s not a competition.” Carlos says, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t have to make everything a competition.”  
  
“Sebastian Vettel isn’t your brother, everything is a competition.”  
  
“Fernando Alonso is my father; I think I win on living up to expectations, Dany.”  
  
Dany wonders how Carlos knew his name.  
  
“You don’t talk about him very much though, why aren’t you in Ferrari development?”  
  
Carlos’s eyes seem to blaze with anger. “Because I’m not my father, I don’t need his name to further myself, like you don't need your father to further yours.”  
  
Dany blinks. “I know, no need to be so sensitive-“  
  
“Sensitive?” Carlos cocks his head. “Right, so half of the guys here don’t talk about me about my back, know me as Alonso Junior? That they don’t judge me on my talent, but rather that of my fathers-“  
  
“I know the pressure you’re under.” Dany says. “You don’t need to be a dick to me.”  
  
“You mean, like you’ve been nothing but a dick to me since we met?” Carlos says, anger on his face.  
  
“I’m sorry for that-“ Dany says. “I’m sorry for been a dick to you.”  
  
“I was probably equally a dick to you.” Carlos says, his eyes locked on Dany. He holds out his hand. Dany takes it, shaking it. He ignores the warmth that spreads through his fingers.  


* * *

  
  
Their friendship slowly grows, it’s hesitant at first – sometimes it’s Dany just sitting next to Carlos on the couch in one of the motorhomes, sometimes he reads the Italian books over Carlos’s shoulder. Carlos lets him, his shoulder warm against Dany’s. He finds himself searching for Carlos more before and after races, he ends up listening to Carlos talk more about his life, he in turn, tells the Spaniard about his own life. They end up pressed up on couches, in bunks, their shoulders brushed against one another – Dany ends up standing next to Carlos where he can.  
  
He remembers a time when the photographer moved Carlos to stand next to Mitch – Dany felt the frown curl onto his face as he watches Carlos smile, Mitch standing close to him. The shutter falls down. Dany feels something curl inside his chest as he watches Carlos joke around with Mitch. He pulls open the collar of his overalls gritting his teeth.  
  
“Hey-“ Carlos bumps his shoulder, smiling as he moves towards Dany. “What’s wrong?” He pauses as he sees Dany’s frown.  
  
“Nothing, you were having fun with Mitch-“ Dany snaps out.  
  
Carlos frowns at his friend, “What are you talking about, Dany?”  
  
“It’s nothing…your little flirting session with Mitch.” Dany says, keeping his voice even.  
  
Carlos raises an eyebrow. “Flirting? Mitch and I are just friends, Dany.”  
  
“Right, whatever you say.” Dany says.  
  
Carlos doesn’t say anything else. He pushes a hand through his hair, biting his lip. He walks away from Dany, hurt visible in his shoulders. Dany watches him go, feeling ice curl inside his chest. His soulmark seems to burn against his skin, he pushes away the pain, his teeth curl over his lip. Carlos tries to ignore the tears that burn the corners of his eyes.  


* * *

  
  
Dany watches Carlos from across the paddock, he bites his lip as the Spaniard pauses for a moment, brushing his hair back from his face. Dany tries to look away from him, biting his lip as he feels warmth curl over his thighs. He feels eyes on him, he glances up to see Carlos watching him. He begins to move towards where Dany is standing.  
  
“Hey-“ He says, his voice is hesitant.  
  
“Hey,” Dany replies. He doesn’t want to look into Carlos’s brown eyes, he’s afraid of finding the hurt there. “I’m sorry for snapping at you-“  
  
Carlos bites his lip. “I just don’t understand you, I feel like you don’t want to be my friend-“  
  
“I don’t.” Dany admits, his eyes finally flicker up to meet Carlos’s. “I don’t know what I feel for you, I look at you and I feel strange, I don’t know-“  
  
Carlos doesn’t say anything. Dany feels the blush warm his cheeks as he turns on his heel to leave. Warm fingers curl around his wrist, he exhales deeply.  
  
“Wait-“ Carlos whispers, the words barely brush past his lips.  
  
“Carlos-“ Dany begins but he’s cut off by Carlos’s lips brushing against his own.   
  
It’s slow, tentative, and hesitant – Carlos’s lips are dry, they stick against Dany’s. Dany feels the slow exhale of breath against his lips, Carlos’s hand grasps his overalls, his fingernails scratch against the Nomex. Dany feels the familiar thread of heat spread over his abdomen as he presses Carlos against the wall of the garage. His hand moves to card through Carlos’s hair – it’s as soft and fluffy as it looks. Carlos whines against his lips. Dany continues to fold his lips over Carlos’s, they kiss gently, slowly. Dany feels the burn in his wrist as his fingers fist into Carlos’s hair, his other hand gently dances over Carlos’s hip.  
  
They eventually pull away for breath. Dany’s eyes hang on Carlos’s lip, still wet with saliva.  
  
“Dany-“ Carlos whispers but he doesn’t get to finish as Dany captures his lips once more.  


* * *

  
  
They fumble through the next few months; not quite lovers, not quite friends, their lips meeting together, their tongues brushing against one another. Carlos whines against Dany, as the Russia sucks another mark into his tanned skin. They sometimes brush their fingers together under the table, their thighs pressed against one another when they’re interviewed. Dany sometimes feels his soulmark ache – it’s dull, sometimes it feels warm when he’s pressed against Carlos, his lips on tanned skin.  
  
Sometimes he brushes his fingers over it when he’s lying in his bed. His fingers dance over the word, he wonders when he’ll hear it, what he’ll do, if he’ll feel about his soulmate the way he feels about Carlos. He knows what the word means, sometimes it hurts, knowing that his soulmate called him such a thing.  
  
He presses Carlos into the sheets, brown eyes glance at him; full of trust. Dany carefully pulls Carlos’s shirt away, revealing his tanned chest, the expanse of golden, unmarked skin. He feels his mouth go dry, he can’t stop looking at Carlos, at the body underneath him. Dany bites his lip and pulls off his t-shirt with shaking fingers.  
He leans down to capture Carlos’s lips against his own, his hand moves to grasp at Carlos’s wrist, pressing it against his bed. He spots a flash of black against golden skin. He pulls his lips away, his hazel eyes falling on the black mark marring Carlos’s wrist.  
  
He stops. Underneath his pale fingers, is one word, the word that Dany uttered when he first met Carlos. _Мудак_.  
  
He scrambles off Carlos, panic rising in his chest.  
  
Carlos’s brown eyes are wide. “Dany, what’s wrong-“ He begins but Dany doesn’t hear his words as he pulls on his clothes and leaves. He leans on the wall outside the room, tears clinging to his eyes.  
  
Carlos was his soulmate. His soulmark aches with pain and hurt, the pain intensifies with every step he takes away from Carlos.  


* * *

  
  
“You’ve been avoiding me, we need to talk.” Carlos corners him after three races; Dany has managed to avoid Carlos for some time, he avoided the Spaniard making sure to hide in his motorhome. His soulmark aches more than usual. He’s nursing a coffee in the motorhome; fingers stroking over his aching soulmark when he hears the familiar voice wash over him.  
  
Dany grits his teeth, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  
  
“Dany, please don’t pretend this isn’t happening. You saw my soulmark and you freaked out, is it because you never said those words?”  
  
Silence hangs in the air for a moment before Carlos begins speaking again, “Because I would have known if you’d called me that-“  
  
“I did call you that.”  
  
Carlos opens his mouth and closes it again.  
  
“The first time we met, you hit my car and I called you an arsehole as you drove past.” Dany says, quietly. He glances up to look at Carlos, hazel eyes meet brown.  
  
Carlos’s eyes widen. “That’s weird because I called you something in Spanish, I shouldn’t have but it was the heat of the moment.”  
  
“What was it?” Dany asks, curious.  
  
“I’m not proud of it, but coño - it means-“ Carlos doesn’t get to finish his sentence as Dany brushes their lips together. Carlos’s lips are soft and warm against his own. He pulls away, a huge grin on his face.  
  
Carlos glances at him, his eyes wide. “I don’t understand-“  
  
Dany rolls up his sleeve, showing off the word emblazoned on his wrist. Carlos’s eyes widen at the sight of the mark, his fingers brush over it before they kiss once more, their marks seem to burn like fire against their skin. Dany smiles against Carlos’s lips, he’s finally found him.  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> coño - cunt in Spanish (I'm sorry).  
> solnyshko - little sunshine in Russian  
> Мудак - asshole in Russian


End file.
